Is this the year?

I don’t know if this is my year.

Or yours.

Last year sent me into a personal spiral, one I was able to manage only because I pay attention to my physical, energetic, and emotional health. It didn’t suck. And it wasn’t great. I guess that adds up to some kind of balance. I have plenty of beautiful stories from the year. And still, beneath it all, I could feel something shifting.

So all the hubbub about a new year has been unexpectedly unsettling. I usually love a new year, the clean slate, the possibility, the freshness. I took a luxurious thirteen-day rest from work that felt deeply soul-soothing where I enjoyed time with family, friends and was winterly productive (meaning, I took it slow and focused with no fuss). On January 3rd, I wrote in my journal that I was ready.

And then yesterday, my word became nervous.

A low-grade anxiety followed me around as I thought about my first day back. After dinner at my mom’s and a quiet evening of reading, I went to bed feeling a little more grounded. This morning, when I sat down at my desk (board meeting with my guides, iykyk) something softened. I settled in. My breath slowed. My shoulders dropped.

Now I feel happily overwhelmed by the opportunity to keep going.

Looking back, last year was a year of transition for our family. I didn’t fully see it until the very end. It was also a transition in my work - subtle, quiet, not easily visible. And yet here I am. Still in the Reiki studio. Still in the teaching chair. Still having deep soul conversations. Still expanding a vision that may be undetectable to the naked eye, but unmistakable in my being. 

As I felt this shift approaching, I looked at our calendar and claimed two days for a full, honest, clean sweep of the house. Chris, the steady, kind soul that he is jumped right in. I knew I needed a true reset. Not a tidy-up. A clearing.

We moved through each room like cleaning ninjas as we laughed, remembered, grumbled, stretched, wiped. Exhausted from the reaching and bending, and aware, in that quiet way you only notice afterward, that something had changed. We could both feel the shift.

More to come on the house blessing itself. For now, consider this note, a hand on your shoulder, reminding you that you are not alone in your nerves, your quests, your ups and downs. I’m walking alongside you. Different days, different details, and yet so much the same: that stagnant energy that creeps in and separates us from our hearts, our homes, our lives needs a release.

Here in the Northern Hemisphere, we are still wrapped in winter’s rest. Let this be your reminder that rest is doing. In the Southern Hemisphere, you’re still in the fullness of summer, with harvest on the horizon. Let this be your reminder to pause long enough to smell the flowers, to remember that slowing down is also a form of movement.

In all of this transition, season-shifting, quiet ah-ha moments, we carry a magic that is entirely our own.

Off I go to share my magic while the world is waiting for you to share yours. Let’s do this. Let’s make it our year.

Much love,

Sara